


Tony Stark needs a hero (because he's the devil)

by ReloadTheWorld



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Depression, Don't Read This, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt Tony, Insomnia, M/M, Other, Protective Bruce, References to Depression, Science Bros, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, ironman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReloadTheWorld/pseuds/ReloadTheWorld
Summary: Tony is falling but won't admit it.  Bruce is there to catch him.... Or, try to.





	Tony Stark needs a hero (because he's the devil)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes! If you like, please comment! Means a lot!

"Hey Tones, I thought I'd swing by to- woah. Woah!" Bruce Banner bolted across the science lab and knelt down next to the man who was once standing; now passed out cold on the floor, arms outstretched like he was forming a snow angel. Bruce hadn't seen Tony in days, let alone outside in society. While he knew his friend's mental health was deteriorating (you can thank a breakup and half the world dying for that) he had no idea it was this bad. 

 

 

"Tony, Tony. Hey, wake up. Don't do that, keep your hands away from your head. Yeah, it's me, hi. Did you hit your head? Can you stand? Here, sit up on the wall."

 

Tony shrugged,  shaking his head. 

"M' fine, B."  he slurred, pushing his hands away.

 

"Do I smell alcohol on your breath?" Bruce asked, trying not to sound angry. Tony sighed. "Whatdya expect from me, Bruce? A- a sober alcoholic?" He chuckled bitterly. "I'm fine....just-" He stretched and rubbed at his eyes, quickly pulling his arms away from his face.

 

"Tony... show me your hands."

"Fuck."

 

He begrudgingly flipped them over. Digging into old inventions and making new ones took a tole on his skin, but he never had the audacity to wear gloves, which basically says "Hi, I'm cutting my hands on purpose, deal with it." Cuts and welts littered his palms and knuckles; some old, some just starting to bleed, too fresh. Burn marks littered the top of his fingers. He also noticed a lack of meat on the man's bones. A little thinner and he could be classified as a living, breathing, billion dollar skeleton.

 

"I thought we talked about this." Banner said, voice soft.

"YOU talked about it. I listened. M' fine, Brucie. Just leave before the big guy decides to torture me too."

 

 

"Torture? Torture?! I came to visit my lab partner and best friend who just dropped like a fruit fly after 24 hours! How's that torture? You're the one torturing yourself, Tony! When's the last time you went outside or slept or ate?"

 

"Uh..."

 

"Boss's last REM sleep was 78 hours ago, Dr. Banner. He has not gone back into REM since. He ate 81 hours ago, however it didn't have enough nutrients to last this long." The AI, Friday, said blankly.

 

"YOU HAVEN'T EATEN IN 4 DAYS?!"

"Bru-"

"What the FUCK TONY. What have- why."

 

The scientist took a breath, trying not to hulk out. "Why aren't you taking care of yourself? Know what, we can talk later. You're eating something, then we're fixing your hands, and then I'm permanently suspending your coffee intake."

 

"Not the cofffeeee." Tony whined.

"Yes, even the coffee. You haven't proven you're worthy."

"I've always- always been worthy. M' Tony Stark. Look, just... Leave Bruce. Get out. I can take care of myself."

 

"Oh really?" Bruce scoffed. "Even your AI says you can't. Why won't you just let me help you?"

"Because I don't need help."

"You don't need help or you don't feel like you deserve it?"

 

 

A bitter silence filled the room. They stood tense, waiting for the other to crack or storm out. Minutes danced by, maybe even hours. Then, slowly, Tony snapped. It started with him looking away, pacing around the room in circles. He sniffed, rubbing his sore, injured hands together for comfort. A water droplet hit the floor, and another, and another.

 

Banner approached him slowly, lifting his head up so the teary, dark brown eyes stared back at him. Dark circles rested under his eyelids.  Bruce bit back the urge to demand Tony to come back to his house for health monitoring. 

 

"Hey, hey. Its okay Tony, you're okay." Tony stepped back forcefully, eyes darting away. "You don't know what okay looks like, Banner." His voice cracked. "Ask the big guy; oh wait, you can't." Low blow maybe, but he wasn't going to take it back.

 

"Listen here,  T-"

 

"No,  you listen! I'm not a fuckin charity case,' Tony spit. "so don't treat me like I'm some precious gem worth saving. Normal people have their bad days,  I'm allowed to have mine. "

"Yeah,  normal people have bad days- you're having bad _months! "_

_"Like that should be of any concern to you."_

 

Bruce sighed, rubbing his hands over his face in annoyance. _"_ I can't- I can't believe you said that. Just how dense are you,  Stark?  Have you no idea how much people care about you? How much I care about you?"

 

"Wouldn't be the first time." He said blankly.

"Then fucking act like it! Let people help, let people care, because I'm going to care, and I DON'T care what you have to say about it."

"I'd like to see you try."

 

**_That's it._ **

 

"Sorry,  you'll thank me later- or maybe you won't, but you need this." Bruce stepped forward.  His face was tense,  but his eyes were a light, calm brown. Before he could react, he was tugged down to the floor, and the man's arms were around him in a tight embrace. Tony stiffened. That was NOT what he was expecting. 

"Uh, Bruce?"

"Not a word."

 "But why-" Rough, calloused hands carded gently through his buzzcut hair, head resting on Banner's shoulder.  A satisfied sigh tugged at his throat and escaped his lips. Maybe _he did need this._

 

"I'm not a dog, you know." Tony said, trying to pull away from the hug. 

"And I didn't say you were one, now relax."

"But what are you trying to prove here?"

 

Bruce shifted so he could look at his friend in the face. His voice was warm, understanding. "That you're not invincible. Everybody needs to be coddled once in a while. You turn everyone away, it's not healthy for anybody."

"I'm not a child either." Tony mumbled. 

 

Banner ignored the comment. "How bad are the nightmares?"

"Nightmares, what nightmares?"

 "And my point has been proven."

 

 "I'm a big boy,  B. I can handle my adult problems."

"Of course you can,  but no one said you have to do it alone."

"And why shouldn't I?"

 

"Because,  one day you'll wake up and realize how much you want help,  but it won't be there waiting for you, because you didn't let it stay.  And then you'll realize I was right, and we all know just how much you hate to be wrong."

Tony chuckled, and then his resolve tumbled. He sighed heavily and melted into  his friend's embrace,  holding back more tears (it was his bravado,  definitely) 

 

"I'm such a wreck,  Bruce."

"True, but you're a _rich, smart_ mess. Makes all the difference."

"So I can pay for a therapist?"

"Oooorrr buy lab equipment to convince me to come over more often."

 

He smiled wryly, which made the billionaire laugh, which got the other chuckling... leading to both men cry-laughing on the linoleum, leaning into eachother for support. 

 

"God I... I think I've gone hysterical. I need a-" He yawned for emphasis.  "A big nap!"

"Well,  Mr.  Stark,  there's more rooms outside the lab." They both stood up then,  Tony needing a little lift to get up off the floor. 

"Can you take me there? I'll probably fall over and get a _real_ concussion going on my own.  I still am a little drunk, mind you."

 

Banner couldn't help it, he snorted. "Now you ask for help. Before you get to hibernate, we're washing off your hands."

"But-"

"Infections, Tony. Clean hands are better then both of them rotting off, am I correct? And dear God, brush your teeth! Ew!"

"I'll brush my teeth when Friday dies!"

 

"... Would you like me to activate 'Play Dead' mode, Tony?" The AI said. 

"W- that's not a command!"

"Yes, but this is a dire situation." He swore the voice was smiling. 

Bruce doubled over, tears stinging his eyes. "You heard the bot, move it!"

 

 

"Fuck you, Fri." But for the first time in days, Tony was truly smiling. 

 


End file.
